


Talking to Strangers

by ActuallyGirl



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Body Image, Comfort, F/M, Hook-Up, Kinship, casual romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6933787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyGirl/pseuds/ActuallyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an attempt to get away from Hanks constant worrying, Charles ends up at the bar where Magda Maximoff works. He doesn't know her and she doesn't know him, however they manages to make a connection in-between beers and late-night guests. </p>
<p>One-shot, originally written as a synopsis for a story I never wrote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking to Strangers

He ended up in her bar not by divine intervention but by the fortune of lousy city planning. Hers was the only place accessible with a wheelchair and not so crowded that floor plans didn't matter. Tired of drinking at home with Hanks worried presence always looming about he'd sought out the rather shady bar only frequented by the local flavor and the occasional student enjoying the cheap tap beer.

He started chatting with her because he was bored, and because she didn't know about Raven, or Erik, or his failed school. It was a relief to be able to talk about anything else for a change without feeling that the only reason the subject wasn't on one of his spectacular failures was because the person he was conversing with was intentionally avoiding it.

He ended up in bed with her because for the first time since he lost his legs someone was not trying to get into his pants out of pity. Quite the opposite. A quick glimpse into her head made it known that she actually worried he was going along with it out of pity towards her. Sure, she was older, and there was no disguising the fact that she'd had children, but that didn’t render her undesirable in the way she seemed to think. He told her as much and that got him both a smile and laid.

He returned the appropriate amount of evenings later to not seem like he was leading her on or expecting something more than that one night. He wasn’t sure why he bothered as he could just have made sure she didn’t think him impolite or imposing, but he did bother. That second evening he once again stayed until she closed up the bar. Afterwards they drank together, listened to music from decades past on a banged-up jukebox and fucked in a booth with velour seats. It smelled faintly of old perfume and regrets forgotten in the bottom of pintes.

She laughed and smoked after they were done. Her accent held memories of Europe, as did his. She insisted she didn’t usually do things like this and he believed her, ensured her that neither did he.

He’d been in an accident. She’s given birth to three children. They talked a bit about how the physical change in one's body might render it unfamiliar. That you kind of have to find your way back to yourself. Even though their situations and stories were different, Xavier left in the middle of the night feeling a strange kinship to the woman.

So he keeps going back. They keep staying after hours. They keep talking. They have sex almost every time. Not all of them though.

He calls her Maggie. Everyone at the bar calls her Maggie. He knows it’s because she feels it makes her seem less old, that her full name is a mom-name. He prefers to be called Charles for the opposite reason. It makes him sound older than he is, as old as he feels.

Then the police comes by. They call her Magda and suddenly he has this image of her, so faint it feels like the memory isn’t even his. The police holds a boy by his custom-painted leather jacket, and he’s so obviously mutant that Charles can’t belive no one else is seeing it. Magda accepts the child, sign a paper and as she pulls the boy-who-would-not-like-to-be-called-boy into the kitchen his eyes dart to Xaviers. They’re a deep brown and so painfully familiar. This time he knows the memory surfacing is not his. The one time he saw those eyes was in a mental image Erik shared with him a lifetime ago. Those are Eriks mother's eyes, in the face of a child belonging to a woman who belongs to a bar.

He leaves.

He doesn’t come back.

Not for weeks.

Then he does.

She’s hurt. She thinks him seeing her with her son and the police scared him of. After all, to her, he’s a sophisticated englishman down on his luck. Which is the truth, but not the whole truth. He tells her part of the truth and she’s furious. In the blink of an eye she’s transformed from a comely barkeep to a mother bear, ready to fight Charles and the rest of the world should that be required to keep her children safe. Her protectiveness is a force of nature and Charles feels an unfamiliar sting of affection that isn’t simply routed in attraction.

He calms her with his words, with some assistance from his mind, and tells her what her son is. She cries when she hears that there are others, a fledgling thought rush through her, that it means there’s other mothers with her experiences. For the first time since she gave birth to the twins someone might understand her. She’s not alone.

It turns out it’s not just the son. He has a sister. They’re both mutants and they’re both trouble. Without asking after the father Charles knows they’re Eriks.

Erik doesn’t know he has children.

Charles feels no need to seek him out to tell him.

The Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning reopens a couple of weeks later.  
There are only two students, and a barkeep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as a synopsis for a story I never got around to even starting, so I thought it might hold it's own.


End file.
